The city of Baltimore is an acquired taste which I have tried hard not to like, but failed. For years I avoided Baltimore, opting for the political vanishing acts of Washington, D.C. and all that it isn’t. I must now face my prejudice and deal with it.

My first Baltimore “drive by” was in the early 1970s. Fresh from the West Coast, I saw parts of the city which lay in ruins after the riots of the late “60s. The sight of those burned and boarded storefronts left the indelible impression of a city going under from weight of excess and indifference.

Instead of quitting though, the city fought back with renewal projects like Harbor Place, Lexington Market, Fells Point and other projects which lit a flame that spread throughout the city. The flames of restoration smoldered, and then burst into a noble effort that continues to this day to maintain and preserve that which created this city. Communities like Little Italy, China Town and Greektown celebrated their own discrete identities, contributing diversity to the greater whole, while a strong Jewish community projects itself through unique festivals and celebrations.

A crisis occurred when the Irsays of this world tip-toed out with the Colts football organization, one of the city”s most identifiable nameplates of the past 50 years. It was like ripping tape off an open wound when the owner transferred the name and the history to another municipality which had not earned it.

The symbolism here was more than a business decision; it was the forcible rape and abandonment of the soul and spirit of an entire generation of the city. When will the profit mongers and bean counters recognize that a sports franchise is more than mere profit and loss on the business ledgers, for many people it is a large part of their very existence.

Even the deep wounds heal though and Baltimore rebounded with the CFL, and then stealing a franchise from another city, and so it goes…. Personally, I liked the symbolism of the Canadian Football League taking over where the excesses of greed and power created a vacuum of integrity.

While the local political culture wars continue in a never ending cacophony that accomplishes little, culture itself has exploded in Charm City. Art, music, dance, theater and the written word challenges the senses and intellects to continue the forward migration. Where the arts thrive there is life, a fervent recognition that the spirit of the city will live whatever the storm.

One challenge continues to elude the cleansing effect of Baltimore’s spirit: the destructive and parasitic influence of illegal drugs. The effects of drugs, and the cruel culture that surrounds it, continues to take a devastating toll on a generation of young men and women. When will the spirit that has saved Baltimore so many times before, take control of the drug culture and eject the purveyors of the poison from its’ midst? When will Baltimore taste the victory over perhaps its’ greatest challenge yet?

I have confidence this city will win, but I can’t say when its’ people will rise up against the rot from within. It won’t be easy, and there is risk for those willing to step out, but unless a movement forms en masse to throw the bums out, not much will happen. The spirit of Baltimore’s people must rise to the challenge, as it has risen to previous challenges.

Who can not like this place? With a daughter who dances in Towson, a son who plays a beautiful clarinet in Mt. Vernon, and two other sons who play their version of Indi Rock at several local venues, I’m hooked.

It is truly offensive to see Baltimore labeled with the second highest murder rate for American cities. What is wrong with this great city when we allow the low lives and the miscreants of this world define the place we call home. It is past time to rise up and devour the intruders.